Everywhere With You

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Chapter 8: The Reply

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"Some letters are written to be sent. Others... are written simply to find their way back to someone's heart."

The rain had stopped. Yet the apartment still smelled of damp air and goodbyes.

Boom couldn't remember how long he had been sitting on the floor. The letter was still in his hands; it was no longer perfectly folded, the pages now carrying the faint marks left behind by his tears.

As carefully as he could, he folded each page again.
One by one. Exactly the way Smart had folded them.
Then he slipped them back inside the envelope, as though, by doing so, he could protect the last words Smart had ever left for him.

He stared at the envelope for several long minutes, then pressed it gently against his chest and closed his eyes.
"I'm sorry..." he whispered. "I was too late."

The room remained completely silent.
Two weeks later...

The apartment was completely empty. The walls were bare. The pictures were gone.
The furniture had disappeared. Only the echo of footsteps... and far too many memories remained.

Boom handed over the keys, signed the final documents, and smiled politely at the new owner—a smile he could barely hold together.

When he walked out of the building, he didn't look back. Because he knew that if he did... he wouldn't have the strength to keep walking.

The days slowly passed.

Boom attended every interview. Every rehearsal.
Every event. He smiled whenever the cameras turned on, thanked his fans, signed photographs, and answered every question.

And every night... when he returned home... he read Smart's letter again.
Each time... a different sentence caught his heart, as though Smart were still speaking to him:
“Don't carry the weight of the world by yourself...”
“I never stopped loving you...”
“Even the strongest people need a place where they can rest.” Boom would gently trace those lines with his fingertips, then carefully fold the pages again, always in the same order, always with the same tenderness.

One night... he picked up the same notebook he had brought from the apartment. Slowly, he opened it.
His fingers turned the pages until they stopped on one of them. Only a single sentence had been written there:
How much time has passed...?
He stared at it for a long while.
He remembered exactly when those words had appeared: the night he finished reading Smart's letter. The night his heart broke all over again.
His fingertips brushed gently across the now-dried ink. "So... This is where it all began..." he murmured softly. He turned the page. Took a deep breath. Picked up a pen. And wrote:
Dear Smart...
He looked at those two words. For a very long time. He couldn't write another single line.
He tore the page out. Crushed it into a ball. And let it fall to the floor.
He picked up another sheet:
“If I could turn back time...”
He tore that one out too.
A third sheet:
“I wish you knew...”
He ripped it apart before finishing the sentence.
A fourth:
“I did too...”
He couldn't continue. He tore it out.
A fifth:
He stared at the blank page for nearly a minute.
The pen remained motionless in his hand.
Not a single word came.
With a trembling sigh... he tore that page out as well. The floor around him slowly became covered with crumpled sheets of paper, as though every failed attempt had turned into yet another goodbye.
Boom let the pen slip from his fingers.
He buried his face in his hands.
"How do you write a letter... to someone when you don't even know where they are?"
A painful knot tightened in his throat.
He wanted to answer him.
He wanted to tell him that he had loved him too.
That he had been afraid too.
That he had made mistakes too.
That if he had only known everything Smart had been carrying inside his heart... he never would have let him walk away like that.
But he had no address.
He didn't know what country Smart was in.
He didn't know what city he woke up in every morning. He didn't know how long he would be gone.
Even if he wrote a hundred letters... he wouldn't know where to send a single one.
Slowly... his eyes drifted back to the envelope resting on the table.
Then... a thought crossed his mind.
A letter needs an address.
But a song... can travel anywhere.
It can play in a café. At an airport.
Through someone's headphones during a flight.
It can cross oceans.
It can reach people it was never meant to meet.
And... Maybe... Just maybe...
It could find its way to Smart.
Boom felt his heart begin to beat faster.
A bittersweet smile appeared through his tears.
"If I can't make a letter reach you... Maybe a song can." He looked back at the first page of the notebook. The one that still held the four words he had written without even realizing it:
How much time has passed...?
He smiled sadly.
It wasn't just a question anymore. It was the beginning of his answer.
Far away... In another country...
Smart walked alone through the unfamiliar streets of a city that still didn't feel like home.
He carried a paper cup of coffee in one hand.
His jacket hung loosely over his shoulder.
The people around him laughed. Talked.
Kept walking. Life moved on... as if nothing had happened. For a brief moment, he stopped in front of a music store. A soft melody drifted out through the open door.
He closed his eyes. Only for a second.
Then quietly smiled to himself.
"I hope you're doing okay..." he whispered.
He had no way of knowing... that on the other side of the world... Boom had just found the only way he still knew how to speak to him.
And without realizing it...
Both of them had spent that night thinking of each other. Under different skies. In different countries. With the same longing still living quietly inside their hearts.

End of Chapter Eight